I Gave You Everything
by semperfortis
Summary: "He arrived too late and he would never see her again. Never weave forget-me-nots into her hair. Never tell her that in spite of everything, he still loves her. But she knows that already. She knew it before him." Slightly AU


**I Gave You Everything**

As he made his way back from the crossroad, his thoughts turned to what he had told her in the tavern. He _did_ give her everything. And now, she was gone. She will hate the weather, the food, everything in England, and he will never see her again. In the past, all he had belonged to her. Even today when nothing of the Comte de la Fère remains, she still has everything that he ever was, is, and will be.

The very first gift he had given her was a posy of forget-me-nots. A Comte could of course afford gems and precious stones, but he had wanted to give her those flowers because the first time he saw her, she was wearing the exact shade of blue forget-me-nots. He had once heard a tale of how a knight picked some flowers for his love, but he fell into the river. The knight threw the flowers to his beloved and shouted 'Forget me not!' as he drowned*. A little morbid, but the young Comte didn't want to forget her and didn't want her to forget him. So what better gift than some forget-me-nots?

Those flowers became the symbol of their love. They represented everything he gave her.

It seems the forget-me-nots were effective.

The morning of the day everything changed, he had picked some forget-me-nots and wove them into her hair. She told him she loved him. He told her he would always love her.

He still loved her, of that he was certain. Did she still love him?

The locket that had shackled him for five years held forget-me-nots. It wasn't around his neck anymore, and yet, he could feel the weight of it. Her and her flowers would never allow him to forget. But he didn't want to.

Would she forget him when she reached the shores of England?

No, she wouldn't. Even a sea apart, they would be bound together. They would always be.

She had probably reached Le Havre. He wondered whether she would continue using forget-me-nots as her personal emblem. Maybe she would. Or perhaps she would pick another flower...the English rose?

Then, she was truly lost to him.

She was lost to him all those years ago when she killed his brother by blood and he had a noose placed around her beautiful neck.

But this time, he rescued her from the noose and she saved his brother in all but blood.

Were they evenly matched now? Her past crimes seemed insignificant in light of her recent actions.

However, she was gone. He arrived too late and he would never see her again. Never weave forget-me-nots into her hair. Never tell her that in spite of everything, he still loves her. But she knows that already. She knew it before him.

He tried to hate her. God knows he tried. But she wouldn't let him. And now he couldn't let himself.

He couldn't let her distract him though. He had Musketeers depending on him. He had to lead them into war. It wouldn't do to think of her sitting comfortably in some English manor. He wouldn't let the thoughts of her ruin him again. He had to focus on his duty.

Finallyhe arrived at the garrison. He didn't have the strength to speak to anyone and so after taking care of his horse, he began to head towards his own lodgings, but suddenly remembered his new status. The Captain's Office was his and he would be expected to be found within it. He sighed and briefly closed his eyes before he walked up the stairs to Treville's – no, his, office. There was probably a pile of paperwork waiting for him.

When he entered his room, he didn't expect a candle burning. He did find something waiting for him though.

Not paperwork. Not a something. But a someone. _Her_.

She was sitting in the Captain's chair, looking very much as if she belonged in the Captain's office – in his office.

They stared at one another. He didn't know for how long. It seemed like an age before he found his voice.

"You should be on a ship. Why aren't you?" He was pleased his voice didn't crack.

"Is the answer not obvious?" She asked softly.

"Not quite." The steadiness of his tone masked his true state.

She rose from her seat and made her way towards him.

"You didn't come." There was nothing accusatory in her voice, and even then, he felt the accusation.

"You had left." His sharp words surprised her.

"I didn't think you would...That's why I-" she stopped abruptly.

"'That's why' what?" He prompted.

"If I have to tell you what, then you are a foolish man,"

"I think it's just you who turns me into one."

She was so close to him. So close. The office felt smaller than that secret compartment. He wondered why she didn't move closer. He decided to instead. She seemed to expect it.

"Anne?" he leant his forehead against hers, his hands found their way to her waist, her hands clutched his collar.

"Yes, Athos?"

"Stay?" he whispered.

He had given her everything once. Would she accept everything of his again?

She kissed him in reply.

* * *

* I believe this story is a German folktale. I thought it fit quite well with Milady/Athos.


End file.
